


Reflection

by countingpaperstars



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Existentialism, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Introspection, Memories, Nostalgia, Picnics, Slice of Life, a little angsty but in all the right ways, best of both worlds, could be canon or could be a happier timeline, lowkey ot4 (if ur into that) but set up platonic (if ur into that), takes place on the roadtrip, the perfect day, the world is your oyster
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-29
Updated: 2018-11-29
Packaged: 2019-09-02 05:45:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16780816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/countingpaperstars/pseuds/countingpaperstars
Summary: They are his legacy - his true one, stripped of all the heroics and stories of gods and destinies - and are as vital a part of his journey as Ignis’ penned recipes, Gladio’s books with annotation-filled margins, or Prompto’s stacks of photographs.A perfect afternoon at a forgotten pool.





	Reflection

**Author's Note:**

> Happy 2nd anniversary everyone!! I cannot imagine my life without ffxv and this fandom, it's what got me back into writing and through it I've met some of my closest friends. This game has had such an impact on us all and I wanted to capture as much of those feelings in this piece. It's possibly my favorite thing I've written thus far. I really hope you like it!
> 
> Enjoy~

Dappled sunlight shines through the treetops, molten gold in the early afternoon as it catches on the edges of a green leaf. It twists and twirls along the air currents before settling on the mirrored surface of a pool of water, silent rings rippling out beneath it. The air is hot and sticky with humidity as gnats buzz near the shore, but the water underneath Noctis’ back is a smooth, cool balm.

Weightlessness is a welcome concept and the tension leaches from his limbs as he closes his eyes and floats, water slicking the sides of his fringe to his face. If he dips low enough to cover his ears, it goes silent too - as if he’s all that exists, floating somewhere between worlds. A shadow passes over him and the shade from one of the stone arches an instant relief from the blazing sun as someone’s voice warbles through the water.

“What?” Noctis asks, pulling back from the brink of whatever edge he’d been drifting near to tilt his head enough to hear.

“Nothing.”

Nearby, Prompto floats with his hands folded over his stomach. The contemplative silence between them builds in the simmering heat, but Noctis waits, listening to Ignis and Gladio murmur near the dock and the collective croak of pond frogs as Prompto collects his thoughts.

“Do you think one day we’ll be forgotten?”

Frowning, Noctis rolls over in the water to swim closer, hoisting up to rest his elbows on one of the lower blocks, stone rough beneath his chest. He traces a chipped edge as he watches Prompto’s expression from the corner of his eye, noting how the freckles sprawled across his nose and shoulders have doubled in their time outdoors.

“Like, we didn’t even know this was here. How long has it been abandoned? _Who_ abandoned it?” he asks, gesturing wildly at the ringed pillars draped in curtains of ivy. He’s on a roll, words rushing out like water released from a bursting dam. “Will future people stumble on the tombs of your ancestors and be just as clueless?”

A hush falls over them, the weight of the questions becoming a tangible ache taking up residence in the cage of Noctis’ ribs. He shoves it down, kicking his feet idly in the water and settling his chin in his hand.

When Prompto continues his voice is quiet, as if afraid to speak something into actuality. “And even if they do remember us, will they actually remember who we were? Or just, the legend of who they think we were, you know?”

The future has always been something Noctis prefers to try to ignore - first too rigid in his fate and now too uncertain to even consider all the possibilities, all the questions. He supposes it’s inevitable that their adventures are whittled down in later years, if anyone bothers to record or recall them. After all, who knows more of The Wise or The Conqueror than only of the legacies they left behind?

Prompto’s eyes are wide when their gazes meet, a ghost of his usual smile tucked in the corner of his lips, and all at once the fragments in Noctis’ chest click into place. “Well, I guess if we’re the only ones going to remember,” he says, “we better make it a damn good story.”

It may not be the right thing to say and maybe he should reassure or comfort - say, of course they’ll remember, how could they not? - but the words feel like paper thin promises, crumpling at the slightest touch. 

This is tangible, something for them to hold onto when the breadth of their looming ambiguous destiny feels all too much, and Prompto must think the same because he grins and splashes a wave towards the rock. “Cheesy.”

There’s a sharp laugh from over on the jetty as Gladio flexes his arms, skin golden against the stark lines of his tattoo. “As if anyone could forget these.”

Behind him Ignis rolls his eyes, fondness and exasperation all in one, and the gesture is sharp without the edge of his glasses to hide it, left behind on their picnic blanket back in the shade of a towering tree. Gladio jumps, Prompto’s shrieking laughter drowned out as he’s toppled over into the water and Noctis holds tight to the stone for dear life as it crests over him. He barely manages to hang on, the swell of water drenching his half-dried hair and threatening to drag him under.

When he manages to push back the wet strands plastered to his face, Prompto’s laughing as Gladio tows him around in the water. “Iggy, get in here so we can play chickatrice,” he calls, hoisting Prompto up onto his shoulders.

“You or me?” asks Noctis, drifting closer as Ignis lowers himself into the water.

Gladio snorts and Prompto flails to grab at his forehead when he sways in the air. “Can you even reach the ground?”

Fine silt and mud squishes between Noctis’ toes as he sinks down to prove him wrong, but he comes up spluttering when the water slips over his nose. He splashes a wave at Gladio and Prompto, their combined laughter scaring a couple of birds into taking flight from the surrounding canopy. 

“Shall we?” asks Ignis, habitually reaching up to tap at the space where his glasses no longer sit. There’s a familiar competitive fire burning in his bright green eyes that Noctis remembers well from their childhood and he grins. 

When he makes it up onto Ignis’ shoulders Prompto’s already in position, hands outstretched to dive right in. They grapple, arms locked as they all joke and jeer, trying desperately to catch the others by surprise enough to topple them. Noctis goes for Prompto’s ribs, ready to use his ticklish weakness against him, but it ends up backfiring when he shoves a palm against Noctis’ forehead in retaliation even as he shakes with laughter. They manage to hold their own, despite how they teeter and sway dangerously close to the water, before Gladio shouts, crashing backwards into the water as Prompto yelps and goes down with him. 

“That was cheating!” Gladio cries, pushing his long hair out of his eyes, and Ignis laughs and laughs as he charges after them, Noctis hanging on for dear life as they flee. “You can’t hook your ankle!”

When he catches them he yanks Noctis down, dunking him under the water, and by the time he resurfaces Ignis’ hair is destroyed, hanging limp against his forehead. It quickly devolves into an all out water fight as they chase and splash and consequently scare all the surrounding wildlife away by the time they stumble from the pool to the blanket, shivering as their skin pebbles in the chilled air.

They bundle up in their towels and tuck into a meal Ignis had packed ahead of time, stacked sandwiches and juice boxes bought out of nostalgia. Sated and warm, Noctis’ eyes droop and he tips over to lay his head in Ignis’ lap, humming in content when a hand comes up to stroke his hair as he dozes.

He’s jolted awake when Prompto takes a picture, flash bright and blinding, and he groans, moving a hand to cover his face.

“Prompto,” says Ignis, shifting beneath Noctis’ cheek to pull the towel tighter around himself. 

“Aw c’mon Iggy, you know I gotta document this trip for us. How else are we going to remember you with your hair down?”

Ignis shifts again so Noctis sits up drowsily, grumbling in bitter resignation about his disturbed nap. He leaves them to their photoshoot and trudges back over to the jetty, the wood worn and creaking as he settles on the edge to tuck a leg up against him, leaving the other swinging like a pendulum over the water.

Daylight’s fallen into dusk in a gradient palette of pinks and oranges swatched across the underbellies of fluffy clouds. Their mirrored twins crease atop the surface of the water as Gladio finishes another lap to the abandoned architecture standing at attention in the middle.

Leaning his cheek on his knee, Noctis watches the rolling pastels in the reflection beneath him and listens to Prompto chattering away to Ignis, wishing desperately he could live in this day forever. He knows this isn’t the case, that no matter how many times he tries he can’t remain in a single perfect moment, but he can save it - stash all the little details to memory for as long as he can.

He jumps when Gladio plonks something onto the wood of the dock, a soft smile on his lips as he rests on his forearms. “Found this for your collection.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” says Noctis, face as blank as his stares at the chip from the pillars, edges softened by water and time.

“Sure,” says Gladio, his eyes shining in that infuriatingly knowledgeable way that makes Noctis want to dunk him underwater, but before he can Gladio lets go of the dock and launches into a backstroke. “Look at it in the dark!”

Noctis refuses to pick it up for two minutes out of spite, but curiosity wins him over and he ignores Gladio entirely as he cups the fragment in his hands, squinting an eye shut to peer inside. The lengthening shadows help darken the cover of his fingers and when his sight adjusts he realizes the chipped stone is _glowing._ The soft blue reminds him of the nightlight his father had placed in his room as a child - safe, home.

A smile unfurls before he can stop it and he tucks the stone into a sequestered corner of the armiger in a shatter of blue sparks, right between a note penned in his father’s curling script and a pressed bloom Iris had gifted him. He catalogues the stashed items in his mind, turning over the memories like well-worn pages in a book - a crumpled receipt from Takka’s Diner, a shell the color of Ignis’ eyes uncovered on the beach, a twisting braided cord he and Gladio had added to for days as a game, a bright green cactuar sticker from Talcott, a feather of yellow chocobo down Noctis had once freed from Prompto’s hair.

They are his legacy - his true one, stripped of all the heroics and stories of gods and destinies - and are as vital a part of his journey as Ignis’ penned recipes, Gladio’s books with annotation-filled margins, or Prompto’s stacks of photographs. They are the tangible slivers of their true selves that they’ll one day leave behind.

“Hey guys! One last picture before we go, okay?” Prompto calls, already setting up his tripod a good distance back from the pool and Noctis stands.

The camp is tidied up, blanket folded and trash bundled away to be disposed of, and Ignis shrugs on a shirt as he joins them on the dock. Behind them Gladio pulls himself up, dripping water everywhere as he throws his arms over their shoulders and laughs at Ignis’ displeasure. A red light on the camera blinks, counting down the seconds as Prompto darts over to tuck into the middle, warm against Noctis’ side.

As they pose, Noctis thinks of the past and the future - all the moments he’s collected and of someday looking back on this very one. He thinks of the now, how perfect the afternoon has been, and smiles.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Let me know your thoughts? <3
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/countpaperstars) | [writing blog](http://countingpaperstars.tumblr.com) | [tumblr](http://thenameisfame.tumblr.com)


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